


a story being told

by Chisotahn



Series: feathers, black and blue [2]
Category: Dragon Age (Video Games), Dragon Age II
Genre: Banter, Fluff, Gen, M/M, Missing Scene, Poor Life Choices
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-07-06
Updated: 2020-07-06
Packaged: 2021-03-04 21:33:48
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,113
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25113196
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Chisotahn/pseuds/Chisotahn
Summary: Isabela slams her tankard down on the bar. “Barkeep! Another for me, and one for mygood friendAnders… you know, from the stories.”A sudden chill fills Anders as things start falling into place. “From the stories,” he says, shortly, as the bartender gives him an amused look.“Oh,everyoneloves the tales of the intrepid Galen Hawke,” Isabela says, a wicked glint in her eyes. “And his recent… hmmm, how shall I put this? Amorous adventures.”“Amorous-Andraste’s knickers,” Anders swears, clenching his hands into fists. “I am going to kill that dwarf.”(Act 2; shortly after getting together with Hawke, Anders realizes exactly what he's signed up for.)
Relationships: Anders/Hawke (Dragon Age), Anders/Male Hawke
Series: feathers, black and blue [2]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1801549
Comments: 3
Kudos: 33





	a story being told

Anders has heard the stories about Hawke.

They all have, inevitably; Varric has a… gift? A curse? Whichever it is, the dwarf has every gossip in Lowtown and half of Hightown eating out of his hands and coming back for more. Hawke himself is remarkably blasé about the whole thing. Anders, historically, is safe just rolling his eyes and trying not to inhale too much ale when presented with a particularly ridiculous embellishment. He has more important things to worry about, after all.

It is, in horrified retrospect, a tremendous lapse in judgement to not realize ahead of time that getting together with Hawke would  _ also _ mean being featured in said stories. But somehow, Anders hasn’t thought about it at all until he walks into the Hanged Man only for a table of rowdy drunks to cheer and toast sloppily in his direction. “Good for you, healer,” one of them cackles.

Anders just looks at them, nonplussed. “Thank you?” he says, after a moment. One of the men laughs and tilts his tankard in Anders’ direction, a bit of ale sloshing over the side, but no explanation seems to be forthcoming. Anders shrugs and makes his way towards the bar. He can feel people looking at him as he pushes past, and an uneasy prickle creeps down his spine. Being looked at isn’t necessarily safe for someone like him, depending on who the watchers are.

“Anders!” The clap on the back makes him stagger, and he whirls with a conscious effort to control himself, only to find Isabella grinning at him like the cat who ate the canary. “Good for you,” she says, sly. 

“I have no idea what you’re talking about,” he informs her, trying to shake off the adrenaline so he can get some sodding food and get out. 

She laughs. “Haven’t come up for air and sunlight for a while, have you? Oh, this is going to be fun.” Isabela slams her tankard down on the bar. “Barkeep! Another for me, and one for my  _ good friend _ Anders… you know, from the stories.” 

A sudden chill fills Anders as things start falling into place. “From the stories,” he says, shortly, as the bartender gives him an amused look. 

“Oh,  _ everyone _ loves the tales of the intrepid Galen Hawke,” Isabela says, a wicked glint in her eyes. “And his recent… hmmm, how shall I put this? Amorous adventures.”

“Amorous-  _Andraste’s knickers_ ,” Anders swears, clenching his hands into fists. “I am going to kill that dwarf.” 

“I’d rather you didn’t. He keeps this place interesting,” Isabela says, but she doesn’t make any move to stop him, slouching against the bar with that blasted grin on her face.

“I make no promises,” Anders hisses, and stomps off across the room, heading for the stairs. On his way there, someone elbows him in the side and yells something about ‘going all night’ and ‘good for you’, a phrase Anders is rapidly learning to hate. He stomps his way up the stairs to Varric’s private suite; the door is half-open, and he can hear Varric speaking loudly in his familiar storyteller’s cadence. Holding court, no doubt.

Sure enough, there’s half a dozen people sitting around Varric, the dwarf gesturing broadly as he continues his tale. “-couldn’t catch their breaths after that,” he says, winking at the group, and they burst into laughter. “Hawke’s a lucky, lucky-”

_ “Varric.” _

Anders is a little proud of how quickly the room goes silent.

“Ah! Yes,” Varric says, recovering much faster than any of the onlookers. “Sorry folks, I forgot I had a meeting with my  _ good friend _ Anders who would  _ definitely _ never use his astonishing abilities for anything other than healing.” Every head in the room swivels in Anders’ direction.

Thankfully, Varric herds them out before any of them can say ‘good for you’.

The dwarf gently closes the door behind the last of them, then turns back to Anders, hands raised. “Hey, do me a favor and  _ never _ say my name like that again,” Varric says, pretending to shiver. “I think you’ve cast ice spells warmer than that.”

“You’re lucky it wasn’t an actual spell,” Anders replies, glaring at him. “I thought about it, believe me.”

“Listen, Blondie, I never used your real name,” Varric begins, placating. “I’m a professional. I can’t help it if you wear your heart on your sleeve.”

The door bangs open again a second later. “Varric, you might want to-  _ shit _ .” Hawke looks rapidly between Anders and Varric. Anders arches an eyebrow at Hawke. 

“I try to save that for private moments,” Varric says, retreating to his favorite chair. “Close the damn door, Hawke.”

Hawke does, glancing at Anders again, then back to Varric. “Too late?” 

“A little.” Anders folds his arms and does his best to glare at both of them simultaneously. 

“Like I said,” Varric continues, going back to that patient, weaseling-out-of-trouble tone, “I never used your real name-” 

“Oh, I’m sure. That’s how literally everyone downstairs knew we’ve been fucking.” Anders jabs his chin in the general direction of the taproom. There was a time in his life when he wouldn’t care, would be proud, even. If he’s honest with himself, there’s a fair chance he’ll find his way there even now, but he  _ hates _ being caught flat-footed, particularly if it’s Varric doing the catching. 

Hawke coughs. “Referring to my, er, lover as ‘the healer of Darktown’ maybe wasn’t as discreet as I-” 

“‘The healer of Darktown?’” Anders sputters. “Oh, yes, because you can’t swing a dead rat down there without hitting an apostate mage who runs a free clinic.” Then the rest of the sentence catches up to him. “Wait, as  _ you _ what?” He takes a step towards Hawke. “This was _ your _ idea?”

Hawke holds up his hands; next to them, Varric leans in, quietly unearthing a pen from the mess of papers spread over the table. “My public-” His hands go a little higher as Anders takes another step forward, and Hawke actually looks stricken. “Shit.” 

Anders holds the glare for a little longer before abruptly stepping back and collapsing into the nearest chair, shoulders shaking. Hawke gives him a suspicious look. “Wait, are you - you’re  _ laughing, _ you bastard.”

“I’m not sure why,” Anders manages, thunking his forehead against the table as the sheer absurdity catches up with him. Stupid Varric for… well, for being  _ Varric, _ stupid Hawke for not sodding thinking, and, especially, stupid Anders for not heading this off at the pass. Or at least not getting in on the creative process much sooner. “Please tell me I’m at least good in bed.”

“Extremely,” Hawke says, sounding intensely confused. Apparently he knew what to do with an angry Anders, but a laughing Anders is throwing him off. 

Varric huffs a laugh. “Blondie, you’re fine. Or at least fictional-you is. I’m not about to start judging your actual prowess in the bedroom.” Anders turns his head to one side and squints at the dwarf. “I asked Hawke if he wanted me to stop with the stories after he hooked up with you,” Varric continues. “And he said…?” Varric looks expectantly at Hawke, prompting Anders to turn his head the other way to peer sideways at him too. 

“That I didn’t want to disappoint my adoring public,” Hawke mutters, slumping into the chair across from Anders. He gives Anders an anxious look, all big brown eyes. “I never meant to hurt you.”

Anders heaves a sigh and sits up. “‘Hurt’ is a strong word,” he says, pinching the bridge of his nose. “‘Surprised’ is more accurate. Also ‘embarrassed’, but it’s hardly the first time Isabela’s talked about my sex life in public.” He grins wryly at Hawke. “And ‘the healer of Darktown’ was your attempt at subtlety? Really?”

Varric guffaws. “He’s got you there, Hawke. I  _ did _ try and tell you.”

Hawke scowls at both of them, but there’s a relieved look in his eyes that sets Anders more at ease. “I didn’t want to be  _ too _ subtle. I’m not ashamed of being with Anders.” He straightens up a bit, serious for once, and meets Anders’ gaze. “Entirely the opposite.” 

“You ass,” Anders sighs, melting a bit despite himself. What is he going to do with this man? Well, he can think of a couple things, but absolutely none of it is going to be happening in front of Varric. Anders reaches across the table and snags one of Hawke’s hands in his own. “I’m not angry,” he says, squeezing Hawke’s hand for emphasis. “But,” Anders adds, glancing at Varric, “if I -  _ fictional _ I - am going to be a part of this, I get creative input.”

“Oh, of course,” Varric says, and there’s something disconcerting about the dwarf’s grin. He seems a little too happy about this. “What floats your boat, Blondie?” 

Anders points at Varric with his free hand. “I am fucking  _ incredible _ in bed. And I never,  _ ever _ want to hear what you think that means,” he adds, as Varric opens his mouth, presumably to ask for specifics. “Just make it good, Varric. And make it absolutely clear that the ‘healer of Darktown’ isn’t looking for anyone other than Hawke to fill his devastatingly long list of sexual needs.” He can feel the color rising on his cheeks and doesn’t care. 

“Devastatingly long list… got it,” Varric says, scribbling, quirking a smile at both of them. 

Hawke squeezes Anders’ hand back, hard. “Thanks, Anders,” he says, sounding sheepish. As well he should, the idiot, but…

Anders gives Hawke a wry grin. “You owe me,” he informs Hawke, cheerfully. “Actually, so do you,” he adds, glancing at Varric. “I’ve just given you free reign over our fictional sexual exploits. I expect to be on your tab for the next decade at least.” 

“Fair enough,” Varric agrees, still scribbling. 

And it is kind of exhilarating, in a way, now that the shock’s settled. Anders isn’t an exhibitionist, exactly, but he  _ does _ \- or at least did - appreciate being known as a talented lover. He slides one foot under the table and finds Hawke’s, nudging at the other man. 

Hawke clears his throat. “Yes. Well. Perhaps I can make it  _ extremely _ clear just how terribly, utterly apologetic I am for all of this.” He nudges Anders back. 

“Not in here,” Varric says, absently, scribbling more intently. “No room.” 

“Right. We’ll leave you to whatever scene you’re imagining us in,” Anders says, dryly. Varric doesn’t even look up, which is... well, Anders isn’t going to think too hard about that. He pushes back his chair and gets to his feet, tugging Hawke along with him. “You owe me,” he repeats, low, right into Hawke’s ear.

Hawke shivers. “Right,” he says, sounding a little strangled. “Good. Okay. See you later, Varric,” Hawke adds, raising his voice a little. Varric just flips a hand at them and goes back to his work.

They step out into the hallway, Anders closing the door behind them before he gives Hawke a sly grin. “Your place?”

“My place,” Hawke agrees, and tugs Anders towards the stairs, one hand gripping Anders’ upper arm. He pauses at the top of the stairs and glances back at Anders. “I, uh. They’ll see us.”

“I expect they will,” Anders says, grinning.

And, to his credit, Anders manages not to turn  _ completely _ red when their descent into the taproom is heralded by cheers and no small amount of spilled liquid. “Good for you,” a woman hiccups at him.

Anders just smiles serenely and guides Hawke towards the door. 

\---

“I didn’t know you could fit that-” Isabela begins, merrily, giving Anders a sidelong glance.

Anders jabs a finger at her. “Not another word. I told you, I don’t want to know what the dwarf says Hawke and I did in bed.”

“I’ve  _ tried  _ that particular trick, though!” She grins lasciviously at him as they climb towards Sundermount, trailing Hawke and Aveline. “It didn’t work as I’d hoped, but now… oh yes,  _ now _ I want to try again. Are you  _ sure _ you won’t share?”

“Definitely not,” he says, giving her a sly smile. “You’ll have to stick to Varric’s stories.”

“Damn,” Isabela sighs dramatically. “Well. You can’t say I didn’t try.” She gives Anders a reassuring pat on the shoulder. “It’s a shame - I was hoping if Varric got to watch, so could I-”

Anders sputters at her. “Varric doesn’t get to watch!” It comes out a bit louder than he means it to, and his indignant yelp echoes off the rock around them. Hawke and Aveline pause and look back at them, Hawke amused, Aveline’s eyebrows lifted so high that they vanish under her helmet. 

Isabela laughs all the way to Sundermount. 


End file.
